Two Halves of An Amnesiac
by mktoddsparky
Summary: Three months is all that connects them. But it's enough./ Post J.E., the members of the TARDIS struggle to recover.


Two Halves of An Amnesiac

**one**

**Author's Note: **Takes place in the midst of the events of Journey's End. Spoilers for anything up through Journey's End in Series 4.

* * *

The sky is still too black, stars cautiously introducing themselves to the recently situated Earth.

That is, until, with a ripping sound, a burning object plummets through the skies. It falls toward the Earth, trailed by streaks of fire. The ripping sound dies away, replaced by a piercing ring, something akin to a fire alarm. As the object pierces the atmosphere, smoke begins to billow around it, leaving a dark smear in the blue sky.

From her window in New York, a little girl uses her father's video camera to capture the falling star in all its beauty.

Up close, it is anything but beautiful. The flames leave behind them an acrid stench, and the blue in the object is slowly being eaten away by orange. Something that looks like blood begins to coat the bottom of the object, dripping down and away.

As the object nears what appears to be a deserted field, it twitches, almost as if it is trying to move away from the oncoming crash.

It happens anyway, in a powerful explosion of fire and debris. As the smoke settles down, it reveals a blue box practically covered in dirt and a variation of plant life. The only visible part of the box is the words _Police Box_ flickering weakly near the top.

* * *

_Three Months Later_

* * *

"I'm telling you, mum, I've been rushing about all day. Haven't even had time to watch _Eastenders_." There is the sound of keys wiggling in a lock and then Rose stumbles into her flat, juggling keys in one hand and her mail in the other. Over her shoulder, propped precariously, are several bags filled with an assortment of groceries and paperwork.

There is muttering on the other end of the line, and Rose's lips quirk into a smile. She kicks the door shut behind her, and it rattles in its frame. "I know, I know, but what was I supposed to do?" Her boyfriend, Mickey, chooses to make his entrance at that moment from the hallway adjacent to the front room. Rose grins at him, a smile that shows all of her teeth, and leans over slightly so he can kiss her cheek. "Hey, mum, can I call you back? Mickey's 'ere."

More mumbling, and Rose rolls her eyes. "Don't worry, I won't call after six. Wouldn't want to disturb your time with Howard." She pauses, waggling her shoulder at Mickey as an invitation for him to take her bags. "Does he still keep fruit in his jim-jams?" Mickey takes the bags and hoists them onto the table in the middle of the room. One falls over, spilling paperwork everywhere, and Rose lets out a groan. Dropping to her knees, she begins picking up the papers and stacking them neatly.

Jackie's voice goes shrill, and Rose is pretty sure that the entire row of flats can hear her mum screech, _He gets hungry in the middle of the night. _

If Rose wasn't so distracted by the papers strewn all over the floor, she might've laughed. Instead, she mumbles, "Alright, alright. I'll call you later, yeah? Love you." With a click, she hangs up her mobile and sets it on the table.

"You ought to be nicer to her," Mickey chides.

Rose glares up at him briefly. "You don't know what she's like." She returns her attention to the remaining papers. She _cannot _lose these. Sarah Jane is expecting them in her office Monday morning and Rose has already overslept one too many times this month thanks to her half-useless alarm.

"I don't need to know what she's like," Mickey insists, crossing his arms and standing back up. "She's your mum, isn't she?" When Rose doesn't respond, he adds, "And for the record, I did spend Christmas with 'er, so I think I've got a clue."

"Yeah, well," Rose mumbles, letting her words trail off. Dropping the stack of papers on the table, she takes Mickey's offered hands and lets him pull her up. When she's finally facing her boyfriend, with his dark brown eyes and stiff posture, Rose can't help but feel bad.

"Hey, I'm sorry," she offers, twining their fingers together. "It's been a long day at work. Some bloke got a piece of pipe stuck in his throat and even after the surgery, he was a bit grumpy. Got on my nerves."

"How would someone even go about getting pipe pieces stuck in their throat?" Mickey asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Haven't the foggiest," Rose says, and they burst out laughing simultaneously. Mickey's hands drop hers, only to weave comfortably around Rose's waist, sending warmth skittering up her spine.

"I missed you today," Mickey confesses, pulling her closer and kissing her softly. "Sometimes, with this nursing job, I feel like you're never home anymore." Rose smiles against his mouth, pecking his lips once more before pulling away as the meaning of his words hits.

"How would you know?" Rose asks, suspicious. "Been casing my house again, 'ave you?"

He shakes his head emphatically, but Rose catches the flush spreading across his cheeks.

"You have, haven't you?" Rose crows, unable to decide whether she should feel uneasy about that or not. "Is this because I won't let you move in?" As Mickey shakes his head again, more believably this time, she decides that it isn't anything to worry about. They've been going out for two years according to Mickey, and in all that time Mickey hasn't given Rose any reason to distrust him.

"Couldn't stay away, hmm?" she teases, poking him in the stomach.

He gives her a smoldering look, and Rose catches a breath in the back of her throat. "I can never stay away from you, Rose."

After a moment longer of staring, Mickey lowers his head and presses his lips to the juncture of Rose's jaw and neck. He begins leaving a trail of kisses down the side of her neck, and it is only the sight of the groceries still sitting on the table that carries Rose's brain out of the heady fog Mickey has put it in.

"Hey, hey," Rose murmurs, pushing softly at his chest in an effort to get some space. It takes a minute for it to register in his brain, so absorbed is Mickey in the task of leaving a particularly vibrant hickey on Rose's neck, but finally he lifts his head.

"What?" Mickey mumbles dazedly, offering her a sloppy kiss.

Rose squirms back. Mickey's eyes dull. "Groceries," she says, making it sound like more of a question.

"Right," he says, trying and failing to sound decisive.

They head over to the bags. Rose takes two and leaves the other one to Mickey, not wanting a repeat of the paperwork incident. When she reaches the kitchen, Rose sets her bags gently on the countertop and props open the fridge with a chair. There's plenty of room in the fridge, so Rose begins stacking cups of yogurt in the middle drawer, not bothering to organize by flavour.

"Running low, were you?" Mickey comments, nodding toward the mostly empty fridge.

Rose shoves two cartons of low-fat milk into the back of the fridge - she doesn't even like milk, much, gets it for Mickey's sake - and snorts to herself. "Been putting in extra hours at work. I'm the new one on board. Gotta prove myself, especially after everything that happened." Her voice droops a little at the end with a sadness neither one of them know how to place.

Mickey shuffles his feet and coughs awkwardly, not commenting on it.

"Isn't your mum married?" Mickey asks after an awkward pause.

"They had a fight," Rose says over her shoulder, busy stocking bananas. She isn't sure why she bought them, precisely, other than the strange craving she's suddenly been having for them. "Pete made some kind of comment about her diet, or something." Rose shakes her head, making her opinion on the matter plainly known.

"Right," Mickey says, leaning back on his heels.

"I told him, I really did," Rose mumbles. "Don't mention dieting or beaches-"

"Beaches?" Mickey has somehow crept out of the kitchen and is now slinking toward the TV in the other room.

"I don't know." Rose flings her hands up, leaning back and shutting the fridge. "Bad experience, is all she said, and then she started cryin'. I thought it best not to push things." She reaches up into the cupboard in front of her, leafing through until she finds a packet of tea her mum had given her for Christmas. Rose's brow crinkles as she tries to think back.

_Could've sworn I had more than this. Wait...tea...that's what I forgot to get_, she thinks, shaking her head. Now she'll have to squeeze in another trip and deal with all of the people who might just be going about their daily lives but still manage to make Rose feel frighteningly claustrophobic.

"You would know best," Mickey says.

Rose doesn't know what on earth Mickey is talking about. "What d'you mean?"

"Your mum," he clarifies. "You've always known just what to say with her, even if you two don't always get along."

"Right." Rose chooses not to add that if she really knew her mum, she'd be able to figure out how to cheer her up again. Jackie used to be more of a pain than this, if anyone could believe that, but these last six months she's just...well, they've all changed. "Tea?"

"What's that?" Mickey calls from the other room. Rose hears the sound of the TV going, and hopes that Mickey isn't going to try to watch sports again.

Rose leans around the corner. "Tea. Fancy a cuppa?"

"Oh. Sure." He _is_ watching sports.

Rose fills the teapot and sets it on the stove, turning up the heat to get it to a boil. On the counter, she sets milk and sugar, mostly for Mickey.

"Put on the news, would you?" Rose asks after a minute. "I was rushin' out this morning and missed it."

"But-" Mickey begins to protest.

Rose cuts him off with her patent _Jackie Tyler glare_, and Mickey clamps his mouth shut. He switches to the news, and Rose sighs in relief. She turns to the now squealing teapot and turns down the heat, pouring the tea into two cups and adding milk and sugar.

"Hey, Rose, you might not want to see this." Mickey sounds oddly serious.

"One second," Rose tells him, carrying the tea out and giving one to him. She squeezes herself into her corner on the couch and turns her attention to the screen. "What am I not wanting to see?"

_Oh. _She stops breathing for a second. Panic makes her seize up, and Rose isn't sure where it is coming from. She's too busy watching what looks like a shooting star tumble from the skies on the television screen. Somehow, Rose could pinpoint the speed of the bright, blue and orange shooting star, if someone were to ask. The star passes into the Earth's atmosphere and, moments later, crashes into a field just north of Cardiff. The field explodes into flames.

"Oh, God," Rose murmers, pressing a hand to her mouth. She realizes that her fingers are shaking even as she tears her eyes away from the red _Live_ sign in the bottom-right corner of the screen. "What is this?"

"I'm looking it up now." Mickey begins typing away at her laptop, but Rose is too stunned to stop him. "It says here that the footage is three months old. Apparently To...the government was keeping it confidential. Maybe they thought it was a nuclear threat or something."

There is a burning pain. She's dropped her tea, right onto her knees. The pain breaks through the panic and, just like that, it's gone. Rose is left encircled by Mickey's arms, left looking into his frantic face as he calls her name.

"What is it?" Rose asks him. Her voice feels tender, a bit raw.

"I've been calling your name for awhile, Rose," Mickey hisses. Rose swallows sharply. "I told you that you shouldn't see this, and you come in here anyway, and how was I supposed to know-"

"Mickey," Rose interrupts him, laying a hand on his cheek. He stills, still breathing harshly. "I don't know what that was, but I'm alright, yeah? I just was thinking of the poor people out there, if any of them were hurt."

Mickey doesn't look as if he believes her.

"I'm a nurse, Mick." Rose pulls him into a hug, something she can't remember doing in a very long time. "It's the first place my mind goes."

"It's your day off," Mickey reminds her. "Try to enjoy it."

Rose nods, rising up off the couch to go tend to her knees, even as the image of the shooting star continues to nag at her. Mickey finds her in the bathroom ten minutes later, bent over her blistering knees with her face cupped in her hands.

"Three months," Rose whispers when he rubs the top of her head.

"What about it?" Mickey asks, as if he has no idea.

"The shooting star happened three months ago, everything with me-" Rose cuts off, tugging at the blankness of her mind and trying to make it conjure up memories, anything but this vast nothingness. "It all happened at the same time."

Mickey runs his fingers over the top of her hands, and Rose squeezes their hands together, suddenly needing the contact. She still feels a million miles away.

"You know there's nothing to connect what happened with you with...that," Mickey promises, gesturing down the hall at what is presumably the TV. "I know you want answers, and we're gonna find them, together. But there's nothing to find here."

Rose looks at Mickey for a long time, searching for something she can't name in his features. Perhaps one of these times, Mickey's face will trigger the memories she's lost. But it doesn't. It never does.

She squeezes his fingers again.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

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End file.
